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Hero..hero..hero… Actually,I had wanted to write about it for so long…I do not mind writing on being an hero every single day because it is a mint everyone of us has to carve into our pretty minds.It isn’t  easy to think of it  as a broach in that it is something people wouldn’t want to write about when they are not yet an hero.I wouldn’t say I am an hero but I have experienced things that You wouldn’t even survive it if you do not have that hero in you….I hope my readers have had similar experiences in one way or the other but we had to bury the roads that finds our path because we believed that true heroes are the only ones that have to die in warfare to protect their loved ones…

It is important for us to note that this set of people did not die because they wanted to…they realised it was the only thing they could give up to rise above stars..that’s dieing to self but I really have good news,you don’t have to die or give up.Dear lovers,you don’t have to receive bullets for your sweethearts and die to save them… Do you know what makes you an hero? The ability to defeat the source of that bullet so that it will never come again…. Dear students,you don’t have to cut the ropes that ties you with that evil courses?..Find out what is pushing you away from it….What makes you a true hero is you ..your potentials…your attitude..your willingness to give up present sweet comfort if necessary to be a great person in the long run…your will to hang on even when you know it’s going to take ages… that’s heroism

Inspiration:Nothing is given to man on earth – struggle is built into the nature of life, and conflict is possible – the hero is the man who lets no obstacle prevent him from pursuing the values he has chosen.

Andrew Bernstein.


Land of sparkles



I am on fire
Because I am wired
to appreciate The one
that makes me hones
my breath
that holy fire burns harder
as if it were the subject of this season
So sticky for plain reasons
Plain enough for sucklings
Milder for the creatures of the sky
For when I ranted and ranted and ranted ‘casting down’
I was raped with the words
that seems dauntless
Rising up was I
Yet it was not matchless
Until the One that owns
the fire beckons me
Then i Was fed with the
Seeds of initiative
What i am started to become
My very initiative

… . …..Mariesparkle™

Dark Shades(Chapter 1)

When Granny said ‘We must stop thinking of the Individual and start thinking about what is best for the society.We should not turn the hands of a grandfather clock and have it broken rashly and hastily because our hands bleed neither should we torn our very clothes and be naked because we are tortured by heat….when our decision is a mere reaction from our wounded heart…it becomes indecision’.She highlighted one of the biggest issues facing decision making in the contemporary World.

 Circumstances had cheated me at the prime of my life …heartrending and grotesque situations…but sank with the Oceans of desperation,I cheated those circumstances too.I was almost perfect in every corners that befits a lady with a well-drawn and well-defined features.I had this kind of male voice that spoke of authority and power,the world was at my feet.The dream of being the light and shield of my community made the people doffed their hat for me as if I were an Emperor.Suddenly,I began to dwell in the dark cavern of insensitivity,indecision and brutality,the love i had for my people began to melt till it vanished completely.The poor Omorinsola who used to be in the seventh heavens withered out of the blue and bred worms.I became a monster of decisions that are always executed with no slight glimmer of compassion and tenderness…’I have to make ends meet even if i had to sacrifice the blood of those souls i am responsible for…Man must survive..To be comfortable,blood needs to be shed…It is a strong tradition that cannot be altered‘.I piped down.

Charles,the charming politician from Lagos knew that I was the Youth leader of Ayedorikodo village since he was told by one of his henchmen who was a member of my community.He knew almost everything about me that he had to send his greetings to me through a letter I had picked in a Local post office…’My name is Charles. Rinsola,I like you.Ever since I had seen the way you settled  the rift between that orange seller and the nursing mother at the village square…I had had many thoughts of reinforcing that strength in you…you are born a leader and I will make you one….I know you don’t know who I am but you would know me better when I  visit you this evening… Till then,think about me.

I was completely disconcerted and felt like running away from home before the cool wind fanned my cheeks,Granny knew everyone that visits me and would raise an eyebrow at any bloody stranger especially a man.She would always hammer it to my hearing that a devil you know is better than a total stranger.’How would I escape the wrath of that poor woman?Well,I don’t even know that hell of a Charles boy…I can always insult him as much as i can….ermmm…when Granny comes out,i would just hide under the guise of his innocence’.I thought

I was in a cloud nine and saw it as a great honour to be visited by a political pundit without those scary men that follows him around.I was carried away by the panting and rantings of the villagers at the sight of the dude in the frontage of our mudded house that I ate that repulsive words I had buried in the corners of my mind.The dilation of my emotionally red eyeballs limbered up for the words to come as he handled fat wad of cash to everyone that yelled ‘Dansaki o !’…….that unusual mode of greeting that is always spitted out when we come across any of the few noblemen in our village .

.‘This man is something else..could it be Charles?’ .I thought.His body was well muscled.He was lanky and well built with broad shoulders.His eyes is really haunty but his words were always alive with an hint of humour,you could  tell a mile off that he is handsome.In a twinkle of an eye,I became a caricature of myself.For the first time,I started to develop the passion to love a man which was far down the street of my dreams at that point in time.I would want to shake it off but I just could not fight it ‘oh my…Omorinsola,you are really weird and foolish…How would you develop such petty emotions  for such a gnome that knows your house and thoughts without asking you..You really need to take a nap’…..I had thought

His tell tale looks made the lost words I could not voice out resuscitated…To be continued….


Thanks for your time


Be happy


Hi guys! Life is a bowl of cherries but I tell you,one can’t discover that bowl without being happy.I don’t wanna know if your world seems like a jerrycan of alligator pepper and dust…..I am sure it is not going to last….Nay,Tough times do not last….I know what is going on in your life right now does not worth it…You felt giving up your life is the panacea….You wanna take some drastic steps that would only embrace today but not tomorrow.
I know that you are so pained that none of my words can pass through your reins and veins …Let this be at the back of your mind,everyone has situations that burns them slightly beneath and from behind but they try to keep them at bay by several injections from enthusiasm…Why?They believed that making themselves miserable and weird always because they have problems would only dive them from the right set of people..Of course,i am not asking you to form “Posh” or any pretence style in vogue but smile even when nothing smiles on you…Nobody will want to pally with a smelly boy or girl because they felt Hope is lost,Nay….No one will understand that fact about you….I am sorry my words strikes your heart like daggers drawn from Shakespearean OTHELLO but that is just the home truth..
I guess you can make out with chatting up with friends,of course,i know you might not have an internet oriented phone or any phone at all but You can talk with this people in person….I understand that nobody will want to keep company with poor guys and girls,”Posh pals are their catch” but you can always chat up with God….Sentries says”Good friends are like stars,u can’t see them but you know they are always there”….that’s what God is………Dress well even if you are left with  just a pieces of cloth…Smell well….smile always…Hum songs you don’t know….sleep well…..Be approachable…..Honeycombs! You can’t be happy unless you make yourself do….Happiness heals ancient wounds and sets captive free

Let ectasy be your #attitude #altitude cum #aptitude…..inhale the vibes




Oh my goodness!I am being played upon by beams that comes from nowhere….The rain is gonna fall heavily tomorrow..Guess why? Yo-yo!This is my first time of writing an article here…..My nerves are already challenging me…Do you care to know those portruding questions that stirs my fervour like flames? I hope Marie does not incorporates all those poetic blabla because ……..ahnn…Never mind,jerk!..Later!…straight to business….Ok? Next time…..Oh baby Don’t cry now….you are disgracing me with your pointed teeth…I will get you chocolate..Alright?

What makes you beautiful? I am not talking about fashion,creams,contours,makeup and the likes…ok? You are hot,sexy,handsome,pretty,gorgeous,beautiful,elegant,gallant…..oh yuck…They are all physical descriptions….I really wanna know what makes you beautiful on the inside….What if suddenly people could only discover your inner beauty?what words would they use to describe you?For me:I think I adore the few friends i have a lot and i do not overstep my boundaries…This isnt to say,i don’t have ugly parts…we all do…..of course,that is exactly where i am going…Well,Let’s do it this way.I saw a fresh and glowing flowers around a flamboyant park on my way home under a scorching sun….they were so bright that even the sun envies it.

I was jiggered at the sight of this hibiscuses just like the burning bush caught Moses’ attention because as a pre-teen,i knew flowers cannot be showy under the affliction of the brutal sun…it seems like greek to me.”Mum must see this flowers,she likes hibiscuses”..I muttered this words like a praying moth.I moved towards the direction of it and plucked…Alas!The petals bred worms from the inside..I was so frustrated that I never knew when I sat down on a dusty ground .My feet remained glued to the spot for barely 15 minutes….My greedy hands irritated me!argh…I left my stomach empty like broken mortal and pestle for decades because of trash….”I am gonna roast you even if you are dead..you wasted my time…idiotic hibiscus!”..I uttered those words and left angrily leaving out my school socks on the abandoned rottened flowers.

This is exactly how people would feel when they discover that your inside contradicts your outside “That pretty Angel stole my purse”,that handsome guy is a cheat and beats ladies a whole lot!…oh!it is bad….Let us try to work more on our inside…Nay! I am not telling us not to tidy up….Take your bath regularly with good soap…use good creams and faint perfume and deodorant,make nice hair coiffure…Wear clothes and shoes that suits you….Be smart and classy but above all,Don’t be an extremist
….Try to strike a balance between your outside and inside….It goes a long way….Together we can!

Ode to my parents


Every man lives for himself
He dares to face life all alone
like a daredevil
He dapples with lilies and thorns by hinterland
to spread the message of hope
I can make cookies all by myself
without mum peeping at my stuffy
I can drive any sorts of car without pop patting my arms at
the front seat tenderly like a day
old chick
I can crack jokes perfectly even more than the most recognized
Clown in the world
Even my milky friends knows how
terrible i could be when I dance to
the tunes of Ink,books and galleries
I can paint the chocolatey city with
the lid of my pen like a baby swing
I can do this,I can do that
despite my age and marital status
Pop injects the nuggets of life
to my flipping ears all day like a
boric acid
Words that arrests my timid heart
like a sentry
My nostrils blocked for days like a
tarred breakfast of bread and butter
Momma dipped her bulging mouth into it
to whisper the twists and turns of life
As an infant,i learnt the act
I pointed my pink fingers with
a beaming smile exposing the
Silvery space in my milk teeth to
hustle for candies from peers
She spanked me with her sensitive
eyes like an hungry monkey
I thought she took advantage of
my greenness
As an infant,i learnt the act!
The agony of motherhood when
Papaya fruits starts developing from Day one
cannot be measured with an ounce
Is it the travails of the patriarch that
can be quantified with a bottle of
milk to revitalize them?
Where their choicest shirts and jean are put on hold to lure us
with “ABC milk”
Out of my caring heart comes a cargo of prayers waiting for amens to the doting couple of
You shall live to enjoy the fruit
of your toil
My songs hails from mount everest
my feet share the pulse of hearts
that cares


Posted from WordPress for Android

Game of words


I lay me down tonight
Searching for words to tame
I became a game to it
Despite the fact i was a Dame
I become famous in the ocean of words
words blows its pride at full tilt
I refuse to be intimidated by its strings
For i am obsessed to imprint a mint
A mint that lingers in the tongue like coco balls
Hear this,bomber words!
Tell your shells and gaggle
Tell them
The ones that poses their wings
Like a dead pigeon saying farewell
to its owner
Tell them
Tell them that the galley is full to the brim
Tell them that i have misplaced the rings and trinkets they offered
me as a bride
Tell them their shells have been cracked by coconut trees
The beauty queen has no need of it
For i have plucked  a set of golden balls from a vine
A vine that dines with my regalia
Encloses a silvery balloons around
My neck
The vine whispered inspiration
I do not understand it
Yet i wet my ink all day with it

Holla  me on bbm(5C14E8B2

Posted from WordPress for Android

Bigger World


I have gone to waves to waver
I have gone to the moon till noon
I have passed through stairs to pair
I have Journeyed through the clouds to flout
Yet the clouds was never at my
Becks and calls
The stubborn thing kept struggling to keep humans at bay

I rode along to Russia to behold
the flaming wind in my dreams
Time and days elapses
but the world becomes elasticated
by and by like waves of canaries and candyfloss
Curiosity strangled my veins in the
dead of the night like a beautiful fugitive
Poor fugitive glows my heart like
Korean gold
and lured me to behold a far-fetched desert
I was gasping for breath like an
Enclosed morsel of pounded yam
and Egusi soup
No food
Water was not visible
The dinner i had had last night rested beneath my abdomen like
the poor dove that rested on Jesus during His baptism
Instincts dug a hole from afar
and inscribe a note on the opened
You want to have the world washed your feet like Jesus did
to his disciples
You want to see the deep end of the world
Have you tried to reach the nadir?
You are close to death
The note screwed up my hands like a serenade
The world had reached the point
Of elasticity than the world i had imagined
I screamed out in a violent sleep
and scribbled “Bigger World,a myth yet to be discovered” around
the fore walls of my breath taking

Thanks for your time.
Your Sparkle
BBM pin:5C14E8B2

Reading Eagle


I read oceans even when it keeps
eyeing me like an owl
I read Lakes even when it keeps an
evil eye on my atomic legs
I read winds even at the verge of
strangulating my curiosity
I read Hibiscuses even when its nectars keeps peering at me like
a bat

I read footprints even when it stirs realism
There are traces of it like shadows
There are pints of it like rainbow
There are shades of it like the moon
Yet it glows my heart ardently like
Blue gold
My soul refuses to pen down bloody allegations against
Yet it rapes my heart by and by
Like loosened nuts and bolts

Books and nature are the greatest
enemy of individuals with skirts
and trousers
Nature bedevils reality
Books bedevils time
It fades and fades and fades away
Like burnt leaves
Kisses one goodbye like forlorn
Lovers day after day,breath by breath,cloth by cloth,sickle by
and folds at the middle dastardly
to erase pretty memories
Yet na and bo never lashes out
tends it like a baby that is in
need of breastmilk
I read a lot to engage in a bloody
Combat between figment and realism like a squall
We fling vases at ourselves like
Tom tom Eugene and Beatrice in
Adichie’s Oeuvre
I got realism as closed fibre